


A Quad Flip

by barefootwits



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Ice Skating, Light Angst, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8697877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefootwits/pseuds/barefootwits
Summary: From Victor:9:45pm: Thank you for making me go. I’m sorry I won’t be there tomorrow. As soon as I know how Makkachin is, I’ll be back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhh, it's my first YOI fic! I'm glad I got it finished before ep 9 airs!
> 
> That said, this is set directly after ep 8 and once ep 9 comes out will be entirely pointless, but I had to anyway. My telling of what happens when Victor goes back to Japan and Yuuri has to perform his free skate at the Rostelecom Cup. 
> 
> The title refers to Victor's quad flip, of course, and how it's a move that is important to both he and Yuuri now. It's also extremely difficult. So, in this regard, Victor is the quad flip and him leaving, as well as the situation with Makkachin, is extremely difficult for Yuuri to face. 
> 
> (Or, what happens when Denny goes for symbolism and probably misses.) 
> 
> Eternal and everlasting love goes to my two brilliant and incredible betas, [Ellie](http://livingontheothersideofreality.tumblr.com/) and [Caity Love](http://archiveofourown.org/users/theoneamazingcaitlin/pseuds/theoneamazingcaitlin)!! Especially for getting me to the point where I changed THAT ONE PART and made it PERFECT. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy~! Thank you so much for reading!! Feel free to follow me [on tumblr!!](http://of-courf-not.tumblr.com/)

Victor left.

Once Yakov had agreed to be Yuuri’s coach, - “For one day, Victor! One!” - Yuuri had called Mari back to let her know in a quiet voice that Victor was on his way. They drove straight to the hotel immediately after, avoiding the press so that Victor could get some of his things and they could absorb the news by themselves. Victor kept saying things softly to Yuuri with a gentle smile that didn’t fully meet his eyes, somehow keeping physical contact with Yuuri at all times. He walked Yuuri to his room holding his hand, tighter the closer they got. But it went too fast for Yuuri. Too many emotions were fighting each other inside of him, building up his anxiety, forcing everything else to fade out of focus. And then, the next thing he knew, he was standing in his room on his own, while Victor left for the airport.

It felt so strange. Being alone.

He closed his eyes, trying to get back the feeling of Victor’s hand on his cheek right before he’d gone.

But all he felt was pressure, worry, and nerves finally, really sinking in.

_How- How am I going to do this? It’s been so long since I’ve skated without him with me. I wasn’t even thinking about it before, when I told him to go. He had to… But… Will I be able to-_

His phone buzzed, and Yuuri opened his eyes to glance at it. It was Mari again, telling him she was sorry for worrying him and having to call him like that. He read it, but couldn’t focus on the words enough to respond, and put his phone down a second later.

He wanted to text Victor, but he didn’t want to make it worse.

He didn’t want Victor to feel like he should turn around and come back.

_I have to do my best for him._

Yuuri tried to lie on his bed and get comfortable. He had to do everything he could to ensure he wouldn’t let himself or Victor down tomorrow, and that meant he had to rest. He stretched and pressed his head into the pillows, then, after a moment, put one of them over his face. But he ended up clutching the pillow tightly to his chest, trying to make the cold pressure tangling between his lungs go away. All the pressure he’d felt before, back in China, was hitting him all over again. And on top of it, a desperate worry for Victor. He wanted the pillow to stifle it, but...…it didn’t help at all. Getting up, he shuffled anxiously around his room until he stopped at the window, staring out at the unfamiliar city of Moscow. Wondering how long it would take Victor to get to the airport, then back home to Makkachin.

In the distance, Yuuri could see the rink, still lit. He drew in a deep breath, and the pressure felt a little less insistent. A minute later, he was out the door and pulling it shut behind him, practice bag over his shoulder.  

A few minutes later, his phone chimed in the dark room.

 

* * *

 

From the second Yuuri stepped back onto the ice, he was ignoring how his muscles ached. He didn’t start with any warmups, but went right into his free skate routine. He couldn’t slow himself down. He went through it once, then again, then once more, trying to stay focused. He concentrated on the ice under him, smooth, and the blades of his skates drawing thin lines into its surface. He thought about each motion and how his body should move, how it felt when he’d done them right before. He felt how hard he was breathing, knowing he was pushing himself, and not wanting to slow down or stop.

But he finally took his first position again, and everything he’d been trying to skate away filled up inside him as he started moving through each step and turn and jump one more time. He thought about performing this later, knowing that when he’d finish and look up, it wouldn’t be Victor standing at the kiss and cry. He wanted Victor to be there so much. He couldn’t stop imagining the whole routine and everything he could do wrong, and not getting to the Grand Prix Finals. And if that happened, the thought of Victor leaving for good, with no reason to continue being Yuuri’s coach... After everything…

Yuuri’s eyes stung and blurred, making him clench them shut. He stepped out of the landing on his triple lutz, triple toe loop combination, throwing his hand down to the ice to push himself forcefully back up.

He kept picturing Victor arriving in Japan and getting to the vet and…

_No! None of that will happen!_

As he was preparing to go into the final jump, the image of Victor crying hit Yuuri.

He stopped sharply, the blades of his skates throwing up ice. Instantly, his hands came up to his face. It didn’t calm the harsh gasp he had to take, trying to cut off his sobs. The image became sharper, and he heard Victor’s cries instead of his own. Yuuri’s heart felt like it was torn open.

Tears fell through his fingers, onto the ice, where they disappeared.

_Don’t let that happen to Victor! Makkachin has to be ok. Vicchan wasn’t, but Makkachin will be! Victor will come back and everything will be ok again. I’ll be strong for us both and win, and it will all be-_

“OI! You’re being talked to, asshole, how about you-“

Yuuri lifted his face with a jolt to find Yuri, a few feet in front of him in his skates, but wearing street clothes. The teen cut himself off the second he saw Yuuri’s face. Yuri’s gaze didn’t soften, but something like mild concern and confusion showed deep in his expression, however briefly.

Yuuri wiped his tears away harshly while Yuri folded his arms.

“Both of you get your asses off the ice!” Yakov yelled from near the exit. Yuuri took a huge breath, feeling his eyes stinging as he tried to blink them open. The last thing he wanted was for Victor’s coach to see him this way. Yakov thumped a fist on the boards loudly. “Idiot! You’re not supposed to be here! What good are you if you exhaust yourself before-“

“Shut up! We’re coming!” Yuri shot back, shouting it viciously over his shoulder. But he didn’t move. He just glared at Yuuri pointedly for a moment, while Yuuri covered his eyes again, clenching them shut. Yuuri took another deep breath, tried to focus on anything outside of himself, but what finally seemed to help was imagining Victor’s arms around him.

It was only a moment, but it felt like a long one, until he could lift his head again, the traces of his tears almost gone.

Only then did Yuri move, with a low grumble and roll of his eyes, heading toward the exit. Yuuri blinked. _He- He was standing so Yakov couldn’t see._ He watched Yuri skate ahead of him, noticed how his skates weren’t even laced up completely, and lowered his head to hide his small smile as he skated off the rink after the blond.

The second he stepped off the ice, Yuuri’s knees buckled.

Yakov snorted, turning to walk away. “Coaching you is a waste. He’ll regret it.”

Yuri, already out of his skates and into untied sneakers, said nothing, but reached down and grabbed Yuuri’s arm. He pulled Yuuri roughly back onto his feet with an angry grunt, but turned before Yuuri could say anything, pulling out his phone as he followed his coach away.

Yuuri sat down and took off his skates silently, getting back into his street shoes. When he glanced up, his gaze froze on the rink, and he stared at it for a long moment until what was really there shifted and the things he imagined were there in front of him. He could see himself out there. He saw the routine, perfectly, with the quad flip at the end. It was everything he’d wanted it to be. It expressed him discovering love so clearly. He was so much stronger now, and more confident. He saw the crowd rising to their feet. He could hear them.

Then he glanced to the side, to the kiss and cry. The crowd’s cheers stopped abruptly, and everything he’d seen fell away. There was no one there. He couldn’t make Victor appear there.

Snatching up his practice bag, Yuuri ran out of the ice rink. He ran all the way back to the hotel, muscles screaming at him. He ran past the elevators, right to the stairs, ignoring the few other competitors who were in the lobby and looked up when he came in.

When he got in his room, he dropped his practice bag and went straight to his phone.

He swiped open the screen, ready to press Victor’s number, even knowing that he’d have to leave a message because Victor would still be on his flight.

But instead, a message from Victor popped up on the screen. Or, several messages.

**From Victor:**

**9:45pm: Thank you for making me go. I’m sorry I won’t be there tomorrow. As soon as I know how Makkachin is, I’ll be back.**

**9:47pm: I can’t believe I won’t be there for you.**

**9:48pm: You are going to be amazing! I’ll be watching, I promise!!!!!!!!**

**9:48pm: DON’T STRESS EAT!!!!!!!**

**10:36pm: I’m getting on my flight now. I’ll text you again when I land in Japan!**

**10:37pm: I miss you already.**

Yuuri sat on his bed and read them all a few times, until he started laughing.

And then he had to pull in a sharp, heartbreaking gasp and grab a pillow like he had earlier, squeezing it as hard as he could as he buried his face into it. He stayed that way for a few minutes, blocking everything out.

Then he held his phone up and replied.

**To Victor:**

**1:31am: Make sure you bring back some pork cutlet bowls with you, since I’ll be winning tomorrow!**

He paused, watching the cursor on the screen. He imagined Victor’s arms holding him close from behind, chin rested on his shoulder, cheeks brushing, and he shut his eyes, feeling calm for the first time since Mari called, as his fingers typed something else.

**1:32am: My theme tomorrow will be you.**

 

* * *

 

 Yuuri stepped off the ice, chest lifting and falling as he tried to catch his breath. His exhales were somehow the loudest sound in the rink. To his ears, the crowd seemed far away.

Yakov walked over to hand him the covers to his skates, barely looking at him, and Yuuri took them, bracing himself with one hand on the boards as he reached down to slide them over the blades of his skates. “I’m staying here for Yura’s free skate,” Yakov told him shortly, and Yuuri simply nodded.

Then Yakov passed over Yuuri’s phone, the screen already lighting up every few seconds. When Yakov had come to get Yuuri from his room early in the morning, he’d immediately demanded he give up his phone until after his routine. “You’re just going to skate today. If you can’t see what anyone is saying about the scores, you can’t lose your confidence,” he’d said, before muttering, “However much of that you have.”

Yuuri held onto it tight but didn’t look at it yet. He hadn’t been able to look at it since last night.

He went to sit and wait for his score on his own. When it came up, he couldn’t help but hide his face in his hands.

_I did it._

The crowd’s shouts and cheers slowly started to come more into focus for him.

Things right after were a bit of a blur, but he got through it as fast as he could. As he walked back toward the changing rooms, passing reporters and other skaters with their coaches, his phone went off. Yuuri knew it was Victor without looking at it. He glanced around and stepped into a quiet hallway, heart starting to race.

He’d barely pressed the button to answer before Victor’s voice burst through the connection.

“ _Yuuri, you were SO AMAZING! That’s the best you’ve ever done! You’re going to the Grand Prix Finals!”_ Yuuri listened, heart filling with warmth. But it was competing with the cold that was still there. _“You looked like a prince! I’m so-”_

“How is Makkachin? I’ve been worried.”

Victor fell silent for a longer moment than expected, and Yuuri felt a jolt of dread, waiting desperately for him to say everything was alright. The image he’d had last night of Victor crying rushed back to him. He pressed his forehead against the wall, about to apologise. But then Victor made a confused noise.

“ _Didn’t you see all of my texts from this morning?_ ”

“Er, sorry, no! I couldn’t- Yakov took my phone. He thought it’d… make me less…”

“ _Aah. I’d been wondering why you hadn’t answered me at all._ ”

“Sorry… are you okay?”

“ _Yuuri, I’m fine! Makkachin is fine and going to be okay! He misses you!”_

Yuuri shut his eyes and smiled so wide it hurt. He finally, finally breathed in, and it didn’t ache anymore. The fear and worry disappeared. Nothing he’d been dreading had happened. “I’m so glad!”

Someone - a reporter - walked by the hallway, but spotted Yuuri standing there and turned toward him. “Yuuri! Are you talking with your coach, Victor? What did he think of your performance?”

Yuuri straightened from the wall and murmured into his phone, “There’s a reporter. Can I call you-”

“ _I’ll be on a plane in a few minutes. You’ll see me later tonight.”_

The reporter looked a little impatient, but Yuuri turned slightly away from her, smiling softly. “Don’t sleep on the flight or you’ll get jet lag.” He could practically hear Victor’s pout in response, so he added, very softly, “You’re not going to want to have jet lag.”

Victor promised adamantly to stay awake before the call ended. The reporter didn’t comment on Yuuri’s flushed cheeks when he turned back towards her.

 

* * *

 

Yuuri waited for Victor at the airport. People walking by stopped when they recognized him and asked for pictures, or would chat with him for a few moments. But they moved on when they noticed him continuously turning his head, clearly looking for someone.

When Victor finally became visible in a crowd of people who’d just disembarked from their flight, Yuuri couldn’t stop himself from running to him.

He got to surprise Victor again, this time wrapping his arms tightly around Victor’s shoulders and catching his mouth against his own. Victor made a startled noise that might have been Yuuri’s name, but it was muffled and he instantly dropped his bags to wrap his arms around Yuuri’s waist and pull him in closer.

Yuuri smiled into the kiss, and kept smiling when it broke, pressing his forehead to Victor’s. 

_I’m stronger now. My theme is love._


End file.
